


Finding Our Compromise Through the Sunlight

by posideoin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hobbit Spin-Off, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:51:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posideoin/pseuds/posideoin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An original story with original characters. Set in the Hobbit/LOTR universe.<br/>Every AO3 chapter is 2 chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Our Compromise Through the Sunlight

Chapter 1 

It was exactly five years ago today when Valendria Gamwich passed away. Her death was not mourned, but nor was her life celebrated while she was ably breathing anyway, so who would have voluntarily mourned her? She had been a strong-willed, young, and beautiful woman; but she could have broken anyone's skull with ease had the time arose for her to do so. Valendria was nice, she was loyal, noble, and honorable; but she was poor. She lived in the slums, and she was not appreciated for her efforts as much as she probably, scratch that, as much as she undoubtedly should have been.

Valendria had raised two beautiful young children, not alone, of course, but with the help of her loving husband, Milo Gamwich. The two newly weds were raising their children together. That had been what they'd always repeat to each other. Together. They we're here together, and if anything ever went wrong, they would be in it together. Sadly, this was all before a group of measly, sickly orc's came rampaging through the small town that they resided in. Now, when mentioned before that Valendria could (and she could indeed) bash in some skull's when she needed to, the sad truth about her death, was that she had been caught off guard.

She did not die a noble-man's death. No. And this is what troubled Milo the most. Valendria could have died one of the most noble deaths, had she just known that one of those retched, disgusting creatures happened upon her. It wasn't noble, nor was it fair. It was a quick flick of of this green-faced bigot's wrist that took her life. She couldn't have reacted because she hadn't known anything was there. The creature decided to sneak up behind her and painlessly ended it. He did not speak; nor did he pound her head into a rough stone wall until the bricks were painted red. He had preformed it like she was just another small pawn in his way. That was what pained him most.

The small wooden table rattled violently as Milo's battered fist slammed itself down. He always did this on the anniversary of Valendria's death. Always. Milo would put his lovely, smart, and caring children to bed, and then he would pour himself a mug of ale that was bought with the little money he could muster off of the 'jobs' in this place. And though he had never truly been that desperate, he was teetering. Milo had always had a job, he had always had a roof over his head and he could always make it through. But that's exactly what he was doing: just making it through. The ragged, but refined man had chosen to settle down in the slums because, if he didn't, he would not have enough to get by.

Well, it wasn't the fact that it was him that needed a roof. He just wanted his god-forsaken kids to be safe and warm. Where they were stationed now wasn't the worst, and Milo had definitely seen worse, as one of their family's closest friend lived in nothing more than a large wooden box. Therefore: Milo was glad that he made the money he did. He had enough to feed the two rascals, and then a little extra to feed himself; and that's all he needs. Just enough. It's all he'd ever known. Hell, he couldn't even imagine having extra money after a full day of eating and caring for his kids. 

Now, what Milo hadn't fully expected on this dull, grey, dusty evening was for a small but audible knock on his door to pull him out of his buzzed (and extremely dismal) day dream. With a small push off of the ground and a curious gaze, Milo dragged himself across the dirty wooden floor of his cabin, taking a moment to sort-of sober himself up a bit, even if it was only on the outside. He reached his hand out to pull open the old door, a loud creak accompanying the action.

“Milo Gamwich?” A heavy voice recited Milo's name as a roughed-up, burly man turned to almost size-up Milo where he stood.

“Who's asking?” Milo questioned. Why would someone he didn't know (and had never seen) come to his house this late, and how in god's name did he know Milo's last name?

“My name is Hamson, I came to talk to you privately.” The man explained, looking anxious to get into Milo's small cabin, and looking even more anxious to get out of the exposed streets, so Milo provided for him.

“I mean, I guess you can come in.” Milo knew that he was being too lax. He had always been just a little bit too laid-back when it came to things like this. That's was always something that Valendria used to tell him when he would start handing coin out to the beggars, especially when they barely had enough of their own that day. This 'Hamson' man could easily be someone that means to harm him, but Milo is mildly buzzed as well as nice, so he lets him in with ease.

“So.. You wanted to speak to me privately?” Milo closed the door behind Hamson as he spoke, in a weary but confident tone.

“Yes, Milo. I'd like to speak to you about-” The man seemed to scan the room, making sure they were alone, “a job.” He finished.

“A job?” Milo asked, turning around. He could see that the suspicious man affront him had made himself feel at home, sitting professionally in one of the chair's that lined the wooden table Milo was previously sitting at.

“Well you see, Milo, I'd like to preface this with the fact that we could have chosen anyone for this task, and that you should be honored that we've come to you.” Hamson made sure to maintain eye contact with Milo as he spoke.

“Who is 'we'?” What is this even about?” Milo had absolutely zero clue what was happening, but he was intrigued to say the least, if there was any task in the world that could get him enough coin to buy his daughter that doll she'd been eyeing for weeks: he was ready to preform it. Well, maybe not any task, but the bar is very high in terms of what he will do.

“Who 'we' are doesn't concern you, what should concern you is your task. What we wish of you is not as hard nor as troublesome as it could have been, so you've struck gold once again. All we ask of you is to deliver a package to Rivendell, the elvhen kingdom. You may not know what is in the package; all you must do is bring it there, and travel back,” Hamson talked as if Milo had already accepted his proposition, “The pay will be far more than you could imagine.”

“How much are we talking?” Milo straightened where he was standing, he didn't even need to hear the task, the last sentence caught his attention enough.

“We're talking ten times what you're paid now.” Hamson spoke this seriously, making sure every word was clear and audible by Milo. And so it was. Milo considered the quest, he thought about his kids, and how it would benefit them more than him, how he could get his neighbor's to watch them for a few days and quickly get this package delivered. Trying to think as clearly as he could, Milo thought about the backlash that could come from this. He did not know what was inside this package. He did not know who 'we' had been referring to, nor did he know how either of those facts could ever turn out well in the end.

Milo remembered the small, hand-made doll that sat on the edge of the wooden carriage, mocking his young daughter every time they walked past the thing. How happy she would be with it in her hands, and the smile it would put on her face, cuddling into it as she drifted to sleep. Milo's mouth twitched at the edge, but he pulled himself together, wanting to question Hamson more.

“Why am I not allowed to know what's inside the package?” He tried, probably one of the more serious concerns he had about this whole thing. He didn't want to be thrown in jail for delivering some sort of joke present directly to lord Thranduil himself. No, definitely not.

“I can't explain to you why you are not allowed to see it. You'll just have to take our word for this one, Milo,” Hamson started to raise from his seat, looking as if he'd overstayed his welcome, “I'm sorry to leave so early, but sadly, I have other things to attend to. The package will be outside your door at sunrise tomorrow. If you choose not to accept, the package will be taken as soon as we think you've made an effort to leave it there.” The man explained, leaving Milo to nod towards him: agreeing. It was sound enough. If he chose not to do it, he wouldn't take the package. At least they'd given him a night to sleep on it.

“The package will give you the information you need. On top of it, the recipient of the package and where they will be waiting for you will be printed. I look forward to seeing whether or not you choose to go along with it, Milo, and it was nice meeting you.”

“You too.” Milo replied, smiling half-heartily as Hamson let himself out of the house. Milo's smile dropped as soon as Hamson was out of sight. He knew it was suspicious, and he knew it was a stupid idea to do some measly task that someone gives to you by showing up in your house in the middle of the night; but when Milo thinks about his daughter... how much she would treasure the doll that he could buy with the money doing this will give him. He sighed, looking outside to see that it had gotten extremely dark as the two had been talking, and with a small grunt, Milo made his way over to where his children slept, peaking over the wooden door frame.

There lay Phoebe, Milo's daughter. Valendria had named her Phoebe. A small smile made it's way to Milo's mouth, remembering his lovely wife. Beside Phoebe lay Boggy, their son. This was the child that Milo had named. He loved the name Boggy, he thought it showed valor, a fighters name. Of course, Valendria hated it, she thought it sounded too much like 'swamp' or 'swampy', or at least that's what she'd said, but the woman kept her bargain (which was they each named their own gender), and she grew to love the name fairly quickly. Milo's smile faded as he turned away, letting his eyes linger a little longer before he tore them away completely.

Raising the two had been infinitely easier when Valendria was still around. Of course there was breast feeding and, well, all of the things that he just couldn't physically do for them. But in the same regard, Valendria had somehow created some sort of amazing bond with the two of them, and god if Milo wasn't envious of that bond. Of course, they were very young, Phoebe having just turned nine, and Boggy being ten, Milo couldn't tell them that their mother, the parent they loved and adored so dearly, had died. So he didn't; he made up a story that he told to them almost every night.

“You're mom: she told me that she left because she had laid eyes upon the most beautiful place she'd ever seen. An unbelievable, phenomenal place. She explained to me that this place was whiter and even more pure than The Jewels of Eryn Lasgalen.” Milo had said, when he'd finally found the courage to sit his kids down, “She couldn't help herself, when she saw this wonderful place, she wanted to see what it was, she wanted to see the other people inside, she wanted to figure out why this place looked so pure and so nice.” Milo's eyes started to well with tears, his voice cracking a bit as he spoke now, 

“And so she did, your mom went into this extravagant place, and she decided that she couldn't leave, she decided that she would stay, and that she would be happy in this new home that she'd happened across.” Milo tried to make it sound believable enough for his young kids. He hadn't even known what he he'd been doing at the time. When it had first happened, Milo had done nothing but drink himself to sleep every night and wallow in his own self hatred for not doing something. But of course, Milo had made a valiant effort to sober the hell up. Because he had two kids to help through life, and he knew that becoming some old drunkard wouldn't help them in the least.

The kids were thrilled when they heard of this place. They were both under six years old, and they were naive, and gullible and they knew nothing about the world; that's why they had believed it so eagerly. They would ask “When can we go see her?” with massive, life-brightening smiles on their faces, and Milo would just respond with “Soon, my loves.” and make sure to hug them and love them even more than he did that day. It hurt him: knowing that they didn't know. But they were too young, and Milo is sure that Valendria would not want them crying for her sake, of course she wouldn't. She was just that kind of woman, brave and courteous.

Milo stalked towards the room he'd once shared with his wife, cursing at himself to stop bringing these story's back up. They only wore him down, and he needed to be strong. He needed to be a rock for his kids, who didn't have a mother figure. And god did he try. With a large yawn boiling up in Milo's throat, the man threw his arms out behind his head to stretch out his bones, which were growing older now, loosing the strength and agility they'd once had when Milo had been tilling the fields back at his father's place. His dad was gone now, died of old age, but hell if he hadn't been the strongest and most noble man Milo had known.

He strived to be like his dad, working with large, heavy sickles even in the most troubled days of his life. Even when his bones were literally breaking beneath his skin; but Milo supposed that was unreasonable, as he had zero money to pay for any sort of 'land' that could even harbor any sort of plant or vine. And even less money for any sort of tools to care for that land. Milo sighed as he lay himself down on the rough, uncomfortable mattress that he'd decided to take, leaving Phoebe and Boggy to have the more bouncy, comfortable ones. Once Milo found himself under the thin, scratchy blankets, he took one last glance at the breaking ceiling, contemplating what had happened earlier.

Letting his eyes slid shut: he thought. He already knew deep down, that he was going to accept Hamson's offer. Even if only for that small doll that his daughter so badly wanted. Just seeing her eyes fall every time she see's it makes Milo's heart shatter. Boggy had never really wanted anything as bad as Phoebe did, per-say, but he thinks that sometimes Boggy was just to prideful to ask for anything. Milo could tell that Boggy would eye the small wooden, badly-painted car that lay in the back of the same small carriage the held Phoebe's doll. But Milo's sure the kid would never speak up. Milo would get Boggy that car. God, just doing this one job could give his kids so much joy, so much food and so much life.

With that last thought, Milo decided that this 'job' thing had many more advantages than disadvantages. Yes, of course, if the thing in this package was something bad, and he could easily be thrown into the kingdom jail as soon as the recipient opens it. But honestly, Milo really, truly trusted the fact that there was nothing bad going to be in that package, even if no one had told him so. Or maybe, he just needed to trust this, because if it was true, there were so many rewards that came with it, food for weeks without having to 'just scrape by', toys for his children, maybe he could even try and fix some parts of the house if he wanted to.

Milo's heart fluttered at the idea of actually having the coin he needed to do the things he wanted, and the adoration of that idea greatly over-weighed the fact that he could be thrown into jail or even killed so easily by this. But then again, he didn't know if this 'recipient' was even high up on the chain of elves. He could be some measly peasant that just wants some more food for his wife and child. But even so, the recipient could be someone very high, someone under the king, maybe. Milo shuttered at the idea of meeting someone that divine with the ripped, dirty scrubs that cover his back. That was all he had to wear, sadly, so that’s what he would go in.

Thinking about the path there, it wasn't the worst. Yes, there was obstacles, like small mountains and rocky, almost-not-paths, but if he didn't take any stops, he could easily get there by nightfall, and be back the next day. He wanted to be there and back as soon as possible, because he wanted to get back to his kids. He didn't like the idea of leaving the with someone else for a few nights, but if he wanted this money, it's what had to be done. There was zero possibility of Milo bringing them along. He couldn't even fathom the nagging and crying that would happen during that trip. He chuckled a little, imagining it.

With one more long yawn, Milo turned in his bed, getting more comfortable as he decided to just accept the 'job' and get it over with, it couldn't hurt, or at least that's what hes decided to recite to himself as he lulled more and more into sleep. He would get there, deliver it and get back, simple as that. He would buy Phoebe her doll, and Boggy his car, and he would buy them some good food for once, and he would fix the house, and he would be happy. With darkness overtaking his mind, Milo's breathing started to slow. He fell into a peaceful, refreshing sleep, thinking eagerly about the adventure that awaited him in the morning.

Chapter 2

When Milo woke, it was with a sore back and what seemed like a thousand kinks in his neck; but then again, that's how it always was. Sleeping on a rock-hard mattress that's held by only the dirty, sometimes soggy wooden floors was, one hundred percent a horrible idea. But it was all Milo had, so he made-do. Pulling himself off said mattress, the man stretched out his muscles, using his fingers to dig into the unbearable knots, the ones he was sure would only get worse the more he moved. Not only was he ready to go on this adventure, but he was sort-of eager. Milo hadn't been in any sort of physical strain since he was a boy. He was excited to know the feeling again.

Pulling himself out of his room, he heard a loud smash of metal coming from the kitchen area. He wasn't surprised. It was normal for Phoebe and Boggy to get up early and, as they try and find something to do without their dad to keep them company, they break something or, int he same regard, make a loud noise that probably woke up half of their neighbours. Milo jogged out a little faster then he should have, wanting to make sure that the two of them weren't hurt; as the kitchen came into view past the rotting wooden doorway, it revealed Boggy, sitting flat on the ground with his chubby legs out in front of him, tears welling in his dirt brown eyes.

Milo's eyes widened, knowing the booming cry that the small boy could let out of himself. Running towards him to swing him up by his armpits, Milo brought Boggy's head to his chest, bouncing his arm as he rubbed his callused palm over the short hair around the end of Boggy's neck, attempting to calm him before he decided to screech and scream.  
“Shhh, Boggy, Phoebe, tell me what happened here.” Milo was still bouncing Boggy in his arms as he looked over to Phoebe, who looked like she was about to cry herself, but instead she looked embarrassed. Her mouth opened,

“Well me and Boggy were trying to make you something to eat because we know you always let us have all the food in the morning, but we wanted you to eat instead because you never do and when we were trying to make something Boggy fell and I didn't mean to but the rice went everywhere and we're sorr-”

“Calm, Phoebe,” Milo stopped the girl in her tracks. She looked devastated, eyes starting to puff up, “I'm not mad at you. But thank you for apologizing.” Milo smiled towards her, just now noticing the bag of rice that was upside down, the small cupboard above it that was opened as far as it could be, and rice everywhere. Like Milo had said, he wasn't mad with them, he was mad with the fact that he now had to clean all of this up before he tried to do anything. Looking over at Boggy, who was now rubbing his eyes with his small fingers, Milo smiled.

Nodding his head towards his son, brushing his nose against his small hand, Milo tried to reassure him, “You alright there, buddy?” He tried: but to no avail. Boggy just sniffed, “I thought you were a big tough man! I thought nothing could hurt Boggy, the valiant knight!” Milo chuckled, taking his free hand and shoving it into the kids side, making cute tickling noises and he wiggled his fingers against Boggy's thin shirt. The boy burst out in laughter, trying to push himself away from his dad i an effort to get a breath. Milo stopped, laughing wit the boy as he set him down on the wooden chair.

“I appreciate you guys trying to do something for your decrepit old father-”

“You're not decrepit!” Phoebe defended him, to Milo's laughter.

“You're energetic old father?”

“Better.” She crossed her arms, making a small pouting face.

“But you guys need to eat a lot more than me, you're still growing.” Milo quickly started walking towards the counter where the rice had been spilled, cupping his hand over the small grains, to push them into his other hand, that was positioned off of the table. It didn't take long to get it all back in the bag (except for the pieces on the floor, which went into the garbage), and it took even less time to cook up something small for the two rascals to much on while Milo went and asked his neighbours to look after the two for a few days; which he still hated the idea of.

Taking his leave from his kids, telling them he would be right back, and that they better be done their food when he was, Milo made his way towards the small house that was just across the gross, muddy, dirt path that they called roads around here. The people who lived here were nice, but they did have a lot of problems. Like mentioned before, their house was nothing more than a big wooden box, but they always had good intentions with what they did. It was a man and his wife, they'd never made enough to take care of their hygiene, which is probably what stopped people from giving them money when they politely asked. Presentation is everything.

What made Milo think they would agree to take care of Phoebe and Boggy? Well with the promise of some coin (which he hopes to god he will get after this 'job'), and the approval from him to clean themselves in any personal hygiene machine he has will probably sway them. They were nice, generous, loyal people, and Milo had known them since they'd moved here. Hell, they'd helped him and Valendria move in, and get used to not having as much as they'd had before. Milo would trust them with anything of his, and he's glad that there are at least two people like that down here.

Finally making it past the few broken, old concrete pillars that were lined up, connected to a large bridge above them, Milo found himself at the Brockhouse's cabin, home to Linda and Ragnath Brockhouse. Knocking hastily on their door, he waited a small bit. Milo had noticed that the package had not yet been placed on his doorstep, and for that he was honestly happy; it gave him time to get this whole 'kids' thing sorted out before he could set out-

“Milo? What are you doing here, we haven't seen you in weeks!” Linda's voice was high and excited. She had always been happy to see Milo when he decided to stop by every once and a while. She would always tell him to make sure he got a shave after he left, or that he really was getting taller. Hell, she acted like his mother, and he loved her for that.

“Hi Linda, how are you?” Milo smiled lovingly and met Linda in the middle of a big hug. One she always gave to him when she hadn't seen him in a while.

“Are you getting chubbier? Young man you need to start doing some work around here!” She said this all with a smile, motioning for Milo to come into the house so she could shut the door behind him.

“Ha, ha. So funny,” Milo chuckled a bit, taking a seat on the tough, hard, dirty couch that lay in the middle of a small, dark room in the middle of the house, “Hey, you know I'd love to stay for a long while and catch up with you and Ragnath, but I actually came with a reason.” Milo smiled towards Linda, who was sitting herself down now, on a char that sat affront a small table, about a meter away form the couch.

“Aww, sad to hear that you can't stay,” She sounded genuinely sad, Milo was sure Linda loved visitors, “But you did look like you were in a hurry when I saw you. And you're not usually in a hurry.” She said this in a mocking tone, almost saying 'you don't do any work around here' for the second time, and Milo smiled.

“Milo Gamwich? In a hurry? What kind of miracle is this?” Both Milo's and Linda's heads turned at the sound of Ragnath's deep, burly voice entering the same room as them. Milo rolled his eyes dramatically, making sure that Ragnath had seen it clearly, to which the older man bellowed out a laugh, walking over to give Milo a probably too hard noogie.

“Alright, whats going on then, fill me in,” Ragnath walked over to his wife, giving her a quick loving peck on the forehead before he sat himself on the chair the lay on the opposite side of the same table, “Why is Milo Gamwich in a hurry?”

“Well. I actually have a favor to ask of you two.” Milo started.

“You know we'll always do anything for you, darling.” Linda stated, looking at him through motherly eyes. Milo started to get a little nervous; if the Brockhouse's wouldn't look after Phoebe and Boggy, then no one would, and he would have to leave the package outside.

“I was wondering if you two might be kind enough as to look after Phoebe and Boggy for... maybe a day or two, or three,” Milo explained, looking to see their reactions, “There will be coin of course.” Ragnath and Linda's eyes lit up at the sentence, even if neither of them would admit it. Milo knows for sure that they both would have agreed to do this for free, but they all know that a few extra coins would do them well, and Milo was a nice man.

“Of course. Of course we will. But can we ask where your going?” Linda asked this as Ragnath nodded his head to the 'of course'. Milo knew they would be amazing, but his heart skipped a beat at the question that Linda had so innocently asked him. Was he suppose to tell? He was never told not to, but then again, Hamson had made sure (multiple times), to scan where they were, making sure no one was there. Was he supposed to take that in stride and infer that he wasn't suppose to tell anyone?

“I've heard that there's been some fresh vegetables on the market. But they're far away.” Milo opted for lying; something that he would most likely regret, even if it was just by his own moral standards.

“Some vegetables? God I haven't had a good carrot in a long time,” Linda's eyes seemed to turn to hearts as she thought about biting into a juicy, orange carrot. “You'll have to let us have at least one.” She looked at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Of course I will,” Milo agreed, nodding like he was surprised she even had to ask. Sadly, this put another weight one him (finding some carrot along the way), but he was willing to do it, if only for Linda, bless her, “I'm so sorry, Linda, Ragnath, but when I said I was in a hurry, I really was. Do you guys think you can be down there in ten?”

“Yes, of course! We'll be down there as soon as we can be!” Milo could see Linda start to search around the house frantically with her eyes, wondering what she should be bringing and what she shouldn't. Milo couldn't help but smile as she got our of her wooden chair, faded pink (almost peach coloured) dress flowed out behind her as she struggled to think. Taking a few extra steps to reach her and wrapped his arms around her almost comically, hugging her hard before placing a big kiss on her temple,

“Thank you so much, Linda,” Milo laughed as she flushed, still looking around frantically, almost not phased by the action. Turning around, Milo held out his hand to Ragnath, “You too. I can't thank you enough.” He smiled, and to Ragnath's delight.

“We've always got your back if you've got ours.” Ragnath promise, and Milo nodded, saying his last goodbyes as he slowly made his way to the door. As son as he closed the hole filled piece of wood behind him, he started to make his way through the mud again. It hadn't really been rain-mud, as it was usually burning down in the slums, but it just always seemed to be muddy. Whether it be the constant crushing of the mud by big, heavy boots or the pipes leaking into streets. The kids loved it though; always wanting to 'go play in the mud'. Milo didn't see the appeal, but how could he, he wasn't ten years old.

Milo chuckled, smiling as he thought of his children, and how he would jokingly scold them if he walked in the house to see their food not finished. He's sure they would have though, hell they probably broke or knocked over something else by now. But he would leave that for Linda and Ragnath to clean up. He chuckled, almost getting himself into character as he saw his house coming into view; but his smile dropped almost immediately as he saw the small box sitting out on its lonesome. He picked it up with almost no emotion on his face, deciding that he would look at the writing plastered on top before he left.

Putting his smile back on again, Milo took one small breath before he opened his door quickly, peaking his head in before his body. Phoebe and Boggy both screamed at the loud sound Milo made as he peaked in, and they both ran into their room in a fit of giggles. Quickly depositing the box on a small side table that laid behind the door, he made his way over to the two bowls of rice, both not finished. He smiled lovingly and shook his head lightly as he picked up both bowls and placed them both in the small sink that lay upon the counter where the rice had been spilt before. Leaving the bowls, Milo decided that he should probably tell the two he wold be leaving.

Honestly, Milo just hoped they didn't care. Maybe they just wouldn't understand and they would say 'see ya soon!', and albeit Milo didn't truly believe they would let him go so easily, he wished they would. The idea of leaving them already hurt him enough.

“Phoebe, Boggy, out here, now!” Milo didn't have to yell very loud to get their attention because of the size of their house. The two of them came out almost slouching, looking sad and sorry. Milo remembered the promise he'd made about the food, “It's not about the food, you rascals.” Milo reassured them, and noogied both their heads in unison.

“Oww! Dad!” Boggy yelled, pushing away Milo’s hand as he plopped himself down on one of the table chairs, Phoebe taking the other one, beside Boggy, a 'hurt' pout stuck on her face as well.

“I wanted to tell you guys something, alright?” Milo tried to get their attention, as they both seemed to be talking to each other, but they turned to him at this.

“Mmmm?” Phoebe made a 'we're listening' sort of sound.

“Daddy's going to be going away for a few day, okay?” He started, “But Linda and Ragnath are going to be coming and taking care of you guys!” Milo tried to make it sound exciting, but both of their faces seemed to fall at the fact. Milo's did too.

“Where are you going?” Phoebe asked in a sad tone. Almost the one she used when Milo reminded her that they didn't have enough money to but her doll. Milo's heart shattered.

“I'm just going to get some fresh vegetables for us all! And when I get back, we can go out and buy you both one thing that you want!” Boggy's face seemed to light up at this, but Phoebe's was still pulled into a frown.

“I don't want daddy to go.” Phoebe's eyes started to tear, and Milo's heart melted. He quickly took Phoebe in his arms and took her seat, bouncing her in his arms almost as he had Boggy the day before.

“Don't worry, Phoebe, Daddy will be back soon okay? We can go any buy you that doll you've always wanted, remember that one? That'll be the first thing we do when I come back, deal?” Milo hated seeing Phoebe cry, it gave him the worst feeling he could imagine. A sort of pit in his stomach that couldn't be filled. He kissed her face when she started to wipe her eyes, small hiccups coming through now.

“We can get Lucy?” She tried hard to talk between her heavy breathing, shoving her face into Milo's shoulder. To which Milo smiled, rubbing his nose into her neck, he stroked her short hair,

“Yeah. We can get Lucy.” He rubbed a little bit at her back now, which calmed her down a lot. And thank god, a small knock on the door rang through the house at this time, or else Milo probably would have burst into tears himself.

“Ah, that's probably the Brockhouse's!” Milo smiled, almost peeling Phoebe off of his shoulder and setting her down in the chair where he had just been. Walking over to the door, he pulled it open, revealing Linda and Ragnath, with their happy smiles.

“Oh, look at you two! You've grown so much since the last time I saw you!” Linda immediately dropped the small bag of things she'd brought with her and went over to hug and kiss the two kids. Boggy just looked appalled, and Phoebe's eyes were still red a puffy, a frown on her face. Milo felt horrible, but she seemed to really want Lucy, whether she knew it or not, and hell if Milo wasn't going to get that damned doll.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Ragnath, really.” Milo reminded Ragnath, and the buffer man nodded with a smile,

“No worries, Milo, Linda loves kids, and... I think we both know we could use a few extra coins.” Milo smiled at this, happy with Ragnath's honesty,

“And I'm happy to give them to you,” Milo placed a quick, reassuring hand on Ragnath's shoulder before he walked away, moving towards his bedroom, “I'm just going to grab a few things before I head out, everyone!” He said loudly, passing the doorway to his room.

Grabbing a moderate sized bag, Milo slung it around his arm, he also quickly grabbed a sort-of poncho, something to keep the sun off of him, but he didn't put it on yet, just brought it with him to the kitchen. Placing the bag from his arm to the counter, Milo put some small snacks inside, things that his kids didn't enjoy, and albeit he didn't enjoy them much either, he'd rather his kids have the good-tasting food. Putting some water inside, and some other essentials he might need, Milo sealed up the bag, tying together the two strings that held the opening closed.

“Well, I guess that's all I need.” Milo felt weird. He'd never left his kids with other people, and albeit the trust he shares with Lori and Ragnath, it still felt foreign and wrong. Maybe it wouldn't feel so bad if he didn't feel like he was doing something illegal; but he had already chosen to take the box inside, and that meant they knew he was going to do it. Milo sighed, looking at Lori, who was talking to the kids, and Ragnath, who was mocking Lori with Boggy, a sort of 'mans joke'. Milo smiled. Phoebe seemed to be having fun, he eyes a little more beige, and her mouth turned up. And hell, Boggy didn't even seemed phased by this entire thing, but Milo was sure he was. At least a little.

Deciding that it might be better to leave the house unnoticed by everyone, Milo grabbed the small package off of the table, and cracked open the door. Once he'd slipped through, he took the small poncho (that was more like a cape with a hood) and slung it over his back, the sort of orange-tinted fabric lying on top of his bag. Once Milo was situated, and felt comfortable, he finally raised the box to his face, seeing the dark black ink that was sprawled across the top.

It read:  
This package is to be delivered to: Arian Elensarth of Rivendell.  
Arian is a guard, and will be stationed in the right wing of the kingdom.  
He will be standing in front of a pillar, seeing over the dining area.  
We thank you for accepting this task, and we wish you well in your travels.


End file.
